You be the House and I'll be the Fire
by coffee-ink-fire
Summary: Alisha has trust issues, especially when it comes to men. Especially since the outbreak. Can Daryl open her heart, and convince her there's more to life than pain and suffering? May change to M, Daryl/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**You be the House and I'll be the Fire**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Walking Dead. Or any of the characters from the comics or TV show.

**Warnings: **As of yet? Infrequent coarse language. Violence. May be some lovin' for ou favourite redneck.

* * *

It was night-time. There was no sun to speak of, no moon to substitute, no lights to shake off the consuming darkness. The pitch black of night surrounded Alisha like a thick blanket as she sat, staring blindly into the nothingness. The crackling of the fire seemed an age away, and she wasn't entirely sure she _could _hear it. Everyone was dead, and if they weren't dead, they were roamers. And yet, despite the complete silence of the entire world, _someone _still found it necessary to bang on the gate with a determination that could only be described as admirable, in the dead of night. Someone who _wasn't _dead, and who _wasn't _giving up without a fight.

Alisha hugged her knees to her chest as she sat, listening. A shotgun rested awkwardly in her lap. They'd been banging on the gate for the past hour or so. At first they had tried calling out, tried to see if there was anyone alive. Alisha hadn't answered, despite being perfectly alive, and perfectly capable. She knew what would happen if she let them in; they'd steal her food, her water. They'd rape her and beat her, maybe even kill her. It had happened more than once before. The most recent time, she had ended up having to kill the man, stealing his shotgun and shooting him in the head. It had taken her the better part of a day to dispose of his body, and clean the blood and gore. If it came down to it, she'd do it again.

After realising that no one was going to answer, they'd tried to break in. It was impossible, what with the slide down lock, and padlocked link chain almost as thick as Alisha's wrist. There was no way, unless they had a blowtorch.

So why wouldn't they give up?

Perhaps it was a matter of who would give in first? The gatecrashers, in realisation that they couldn't break in, or Alisha, in realisation that they wouldn't leave any time soon. If that was the case, the answer was Alisha. She couldn't sit there while they tried to break the gates down. It would drive her mental, and it would attract the roamers like flies to roadkill. She didn't need either of those things. She grabbed her shotgun, cocked it, and cautiously crept down the hall, opening the front door with one hand.

She slipped outside, the icy air hitting her with a shock. It was so dark that she could barely make out the shapes of three people at the gates. They hadn't noticed her, too busy with the gate, but it was only a matter of time.

Alisha had been lucky when the outbreak had started; her uncle was a rich man, owned a winery, and so it had only been fitting that he build a mansion away from, and above, the town, at the edge of a cliff, surrounded by thick cement walls and a heavy gate. It had seemed like the logical place to be at the time of the outbreak; safe, behind thick, heavy walls and strong gates. Unfortunately, her uncle had been on holiday for a long time, and the mansion was lacking in a few areas.

Wine? He had it in abundance, and Alisha was able to get as drunk as she desired. Bedrooms? Alisha had seven to choose from. Power? Solar and a back-up generator. Water? He'd never liked paying for it, so he'd installed four large tanks. Food? Only the freshest of the fresh. At the time of purchase, over four months ago. Now, it was a soggy pile of mould, stinking out the garbage. The only way or Alisha to get food was to walk a good hour to the town, which wasn't exactly safe anymore. She was already getting low, and would have to make another trip. She'd almost been killed the last time she'd made a trip into the town.

"Hey," one of them, a man spoke, and they all froze. "There's someone there."

Alisha watched them. "Walker?" said another.

"I dunno. Hey? Hey!"

Alisha took aim, attempting to curb the nervous shaking of her hands. She didn't know how they'd react, what they'd do. "What do y'all want?" she asked.

"Let us-!" one of them started angrily, but he was cut off.

"Shane! Just stop," another hissed. He spoke to Alisha. "We're just lookin' for somewhere safe," he told her.

"This ain't it," Alisha assured him. No good would come from letting them in. "Go on, now. Find somewhere else." She sounded a lot braver than she felt.

"Please, just for a night. I- what's your name?"

Alisha hesitated before answering. "Alisha."

"Alisha? I'm Rick. Rick Grimes. This is Shane, and Daryl. I know you probably don't trust us, but I'm asking you, _please. _ We have women, a child. We just need somewhere to stay, for one night."

"If I don't trust you, what makes you think I'll just let y'all in?" Alisha asked. She was taking no chances. Either way, as long as she was in here, and they were out there, she was safe. Safety was hard to come by in this day and age. It was hard enough to come by _before _the outbreak.

"You're gunna play this game? Cause it's not about trust, is it? It's about survival, and survival's about sticking together, right?" Shane asked.

Alisha narrowed her eyes at him. "No," she told him, "survival's about who's got the bigger guns, the most food, and the better protection."

"We have food," Rick offered.

"I don't want your food."

"Guns, then."

"I don't want guns."

"Well what do you want then? You got the better protection, we can all see that."

Alisha cautiously approached the gate, gun still trained on the men. She could just make out a convoy behind them, heads moving in the cars. The three men were armed, like her, and all of them older; the youngest, who she thought was Daryl, would have been in his late twenties, early thirties. Alisha wasn't even sure if she'd turned twenty yet; she'd given up on keeping track of the days.

"Y'all lay down your weapons," she told them. "If I let y'all in here, you lay them down, don't go carryin' them all 'round like they're glued to your hands." Shane scoffed, but Alisha ploughed on. If they didn't abide to her terms, they could move on. "Y'all can take 'em when y'all leave, or if those things come attackin', but y'all don't need 'em to play poker, or to take a piss, and you sure as hell don't need 'em when y'all eatin'. Okay?"

"Done," Daryl said without hesitation. "You get me on the other side of this gate, I'll even lay it at your feet. Long as you don't want me to kiss your boots, we'll be fine."

With a curt nod from Shane, and a small smile from Rick, Alisha went about opening the gates. It was no easy task. Once she'd untangled and hauled the lock and chain off, she had to lift and slide the heavy bolt, then slide the gate open. Only the best security for her uncle. It was a pain to open, but when it was closed, even a tank would have a hard time knocking it down. Once the cars were all in, she had to lock it all up again, with some help from Daryl.

When all of the cars had been emptied of people, Alisha found herself staring in the face of a large group of pale, nervous people. Rick stepped forward. "Thank you," he told her. He glanced around at his group, then started on the introductions. Alisha tried her best to keep up.

There was pregnant Lori, and Carl, Rick's wife and son; T-Dog, the dark man; Glenn and Maggie; Hershel and Beth, Maggie's father and sister; Carol, who'd recently lost her young daughter; and there was also Shane, Daryl and Rick himself. Eleven people. Alisha glanced at each of them, tightening her grip on the shotgun. Save for Carl, and maybe Beth, they were all older than her.

"It's... uh... nice to meet y'all," Alisha told them. She didn't know what to make of them all. "I'm Alisha. I, um, I imagine Rick's already filled y'all in on terms?" There was a general mutter of agreement. "It's nothin' personal..."

"Yeah, about that," Shane started. His eyes flicked down to the shotgun she was holding. "We lay down our guns, only seems fair that you do too, right?"

"Shane," Rick warned.

Alisha scowled. "Those were terms of me riskin' _my_ life, to let y'all into _my_ home. There's eleven of you, and one of me. I guess gun makes two. _That's _hardly fair," she told him. "The last time I let someone in here..." Alisha trailed off as the memories came crashing down. She angrily pushed them away. "Well, let's just say it was a mistake. I'd rather not make it again."

"It's fine," Rick assured her. "Your house, your rules. I trust that you're not gunna go around shootin' us. We'll be gone by morning."

There was an uncomfortable silence, as they all took in what had just been said. None of them really wanted to go back into the world.

T-Dog whistled, trying to break the tension. "This is a niiice house. You alone here?"

"Yeah. It's just me," Alisha told him. "C'mon. Y'all may as well stay inside for the night. There's enough room, anyhow." She paused for a moment, as if debating whether or not to say something else. "I ain't got no food, though. I'm all out. Y'all wanna eat, make sure you got your own." She hoped that it would deter them from trying to rob her. It was a dangerous game she was playing, she knew; she didn't know these people, who they were, what they wanted. They could already be deciding what to do with her body.

"We've got enough," Lori told her. "For _all _of us," she added. Alisha assumed 'all of us' included her. She nodded at the woman, throwing her a small smile.

"C'mon. Let's get out of the cold," Alisha said. She walked inside, the group trailing after her.

To say the house was giant was an understatement. Alisha had lived in apartments smaller than the living room. The kitchen was larger than her old lounge, with an island in the middle, and each of the bedrooms could almost house the whole group. Her uncle had cut no corners when he built the place, and he _had _built it himself, with the help of family.

Alisha could see the awe etched onto each of the groups faces as she directed them to the bedrooms. "Y'all can pick and choose, I guess," she told them. "Not all of them have beds, but there's a linen cupboard down the hall-" she pointed to it "-where there's spare blankets and whatnot. Y'all can shower, but careful on the water. And the power; generator's nearly out of juice."

"You hit the jackpot, or what?" T-Dog commented.

Alisha smiled. "You'd say so, but not really. Almost kills me gettin' food, and it's mighty lonely, too. Y'all have a good sleep. If you need anything, I'll be in the livin' room."

Rick frowned. "You don't use the bedrooms?"

"No," Alisha told him, shaking her head. "Haven't been up here in months. Besides, it's warmer near the fire."

"Fair enough. Well, thank you," Rick told her. The rest of the group gave their thanks, and Alisha bid them goodnight before heading back down the stairs. There was a faint clanging at the gate. The roamers had followed them.

Curling up in the chair beside the fire, Alisha listened, gripping onto her shotgun. _They can't get in, _she told herself. _You're safe, they can't get in. _She'd told herself the same thing again and again, but months of loneliness and a world gone sour had amounted to more sleepless nights than she could count. She stared into the red and orange flames, watching them as they danced around.


	2. Chapter 2

**You be the House and I'll be the Fire**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Walking Dead. Or any of the characters from the comics or TV show.

**Warnings: **As of yet? Infrequent coarse language. Violence, dark themes that may upset some readers. May be some lovin' for our favourite redneck.

* * *

Alisha woke early the next morning, as she did every morning. Well, she might not have even fallen asleep, but the first thing she could remember seeing was a large, dark figure, blotting out the light of the dying fire. It was a roamer, in her living room. How had it gotten in? Were there more of them?

The roamed moved, shifting its weight as its attention was turned to her. With an audible gasp, Alisha leapt out of her chair, grabbing her shotgun. She cocked it, aimed and went to squeeze the trigger.

"Hey!" Alisha froze. Roamers didn't speak. "The hell are you doin'?"

Heart palpitating in her chest like a galloping horse, Alisha let the gun fall to the ground, her head following with a thump. She breathed slowly and deliberately as she tried to regulate it. "I thought you were a roamer," she said.

The figure snorted, stepping aside from the fire. "Do I look like a walker to you?"

Alisha didn't answer him. She wiped a hand over her face as she sat up, studying the man in front of her. He was well-built, with smoothly flowing muscled arms, short brown hair and soft blue eyes. Alisha studied him with an appreciative eye. He was, to say the least, very attractive, even if he would have to be ten or so years older than her.

A shame she couldn't trust him. Looks deceived, and this man looked dangerous enough as it was, a permanent scowl etched into his face. Alisha wondered if he had ever smiled before in his life. She stood up, grabbed the gun, and inconspicuously edged away from him. "So which one are you, again? I'm no good with names."

"Daryl," he told her. He folded his arms across his chest as he watched her.

"Daryl. Right." There were sounds of life coming from upstairs. "Y'all be leavin' today then?" It was a rhetorical question. They _were _leaving.

With a nod, Daryl said, "guess so." Alisha nodded. There was an awkward silence, and Alisha suddenly felt uncomfortable. Here was a man who probably weighed twice the size of her, and all she had to protect herself was a shotgun. It didn't feel so safe anymore.

"Um..." Alisha trailed off, looking for a legitimate excuse to leave the room. Food was a legitimate excuse. "I'm gunna get somethin' to eat," she told him. She left Daryl standing there with a raised eyebrow, and headed to the kitchen. He followed after her, however, and she could feel herself starting to panic.

Alisha rummaged through the cupboards, trying to ignore Daryl's eyes on her. He wasn't like the others, none of his group were. If they'd wanted to hurt her, they would have by now. What was the point of waiting? They were leaving in a few hours anyway, Alisha didn't have to worry about them. They'd be on their way, and she'd be alone. Again.

The cupboards were empty, all of them. Not even a lousy can of beans. Right; no food. How could she forget? She needed to go into town, get some more, but that would have to wait until these people were gone.

Apparently, Daryl hadn't forgotten. "Thought you said you ain't got no food?" He leaned against the island, watching Alisha carefully. It was making her feel uneasy, like a lion watching a gazelle.

"I don't."

"Then why are you lookin'?"

With a scowl, Alisha slammed the cupboard door. She went to answer when Rick walked in, fully dressed, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He barely glanced at the two. "Mornin'," he said.

"Mornin'," Alisha replied. Daryl didn't answer, but apparently this was normal, because Rick didn't press the matter.

Standing in the doorway, Alisha noticed for the first time what Rick was wearing; a Sherriff's uniform. He was an officer! Maybe it was old habits, but Alisha felt just a little bit safer in his presence. He wouldn't try anything funny, would he?

This man though... and the one from last night. Shane, or whatever his name was. Alisha didn't trust him, at all. She didn't trust that she could take her eyes off him, even for a moment, and she didn't trust that she'd be safe even if she _didn't _take her eyes off him.

"Look, Alisha," Rick was saying, "I need to talk with you."

"Okay, that's fine."

With a nod, Daryl left the room, and Rick turned to Alisha. "I know it's not fair to ask you this, but I'm going to anyway," he started. Alisha braced herself for whatever was coming next. What was he going to ask? Did he want sex, or did the other men? Food, weapons? They know she didn't have any. It was sex, then. "Don't send us off."

Alisha baulked. "I... what?" She had not been expecting that. He was asking her to let them stay? Actually _asking_?

"We don't have anywhere else to go. There isn't anywhere, and this place is safe, it's secure. There's enough room for us all, we won't cause any trouble." Rick was almost pleading with her, desperate like, as though a group of eleven couldn't overwhelm one person. "If we go back out there we'll die, we're all exhausted as it is, we haven't had a good night's sleep in months."

"That's not my problem," Alisha told him. "When everyone's awake, y'all can leave."

"Please, I'm begging you. My wife, she's pregnant, and I have a son. A twelve year old boy! You want to send him back out there? Please!"

Alisha shook her head, adamant. No good would come from letting them stay. No good ever came when other people were concerned. She was safer on her own. "I'm sorry, but y'all can't stay."

A clanging from outside caught their attention. With Rick at her heels, Alisha went to investigate. Daryl was already on the front porch when they got there, staring at the gate. No less than twenty roamers were at it, rattling it as they tried to break it down, like prisoners in a cell.

"They must've followed the sound that y'all were makin' last night," Alisha told them.

Rick glanced nervously at the gates. "How strong are they?" he asked.

"They won't get in." She scowled. There was no way the group would make it out.

Daryl seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "You still want us to leave?" It was a pointless question; of course she wasn't going to ask them to leave. She wasn't one to send people directly to their graves.

"As soon as they're gone, so are you. _All _of you."

The rest of the group woke at their own pace, and soon there were twelve people, awkwardly seated in the living room as though each person was a stranger to the other eleven. It was true in Alisha's case, and she nervously bit her lip, glancing around at the rest of them. They should have been gone by now.

"So we're stayin' now?" Shane asked. He stood next to Lori, swarming in self-importance. He was still annoyed that they weren't allowed to have their guns.

"No," Alisha assured him. She didn't want any of them to get the wrong idea. "When the roamers are gone, so are y'all, understand me?"

"Why can't we stay here?" Carol asked.

"Because I said so's why."

"You have the room."

Alisha wouldn't be put off. "No."

"We'll give you food, weapons."

"You can't send my son back out there; you can't send any of us back out there!"

"How could you be so selfish?"

"Selfish? _Selfish!" _Alisha echoed. "Weren't so selfish when I let y'all in last night! Didn't seem to mind then! I have my reasons, alright?"

"Yeah?" Shane stepped forward. "And what are your reasons? Besides selfishness?"

"Ain't got nothin' to do with y'all, so mind your own business. I could've left y'all out there, probably should've."

"I think we have a reason to know why we're being sent back out there," Shane pressed. He towered over Alisha, and she tightened her grip on her gun. She would not be put off by him.

"Well let's just say it's about trust. I don't trust you-"

"We're not going to do anything against you," Rick insisted.

Alisha glowered at him. "Then you'll leave."

Glenn spoke up, sounding as nervous as Alisha felt. "We're not... we won't hurt you."

"Yeah, I heard that before," Alisha told him.

"You're gunna judge us based on what's happened to you in the past?"

"Y'all keep on playin' your broken record, it's not gunna change my mind."

Rick sighed, but he refused to give up. "Why won't you help us?" he asked.

"Helped y'all last night." Alisha glanced at him. She glanced around at all of them. They were just as scared as she was. With a sigh, she got to her feet and went to leave the room. She paused at the archway. "I'll give y'all a week to cure your 'exhaustion', and get you some proper sleep and whatever else. But after that, y'all _are _leavin'."

"Thank you," Rick told her.

This seemed to satisfy them. A week was better than nothing, after all. If they hadn't wronged her after a week, Alisha thought, she'd consider letting them stay. It was lonely, after all. She didn't tell them this, though.

"A week?" Shane echoed. "Then you're just gunna send us off, like girl scouts sellin' cookies!"

"Shane, enough," Rick told him. Daryl shifted by the fire, his eyes narrowed at Shane.

Ignoring him, Shane went on. "Why not just send us off now?"

"Well, you're welcome to leave if you want," Alisha snapped. She knew he'd be a problem. "I've given you more time than I feel comfortable with."

"Why, because you don't trust us? Because you let someone else in and they took your food?"

"You wanna know what happened with the last man I let in?" Alisha straightened her back, to try and preserve her dignity as she reminisced. "He was nice. At first. Charmin', a real looker. After a few days though, he decided it wasn't enough that I let him stay. He wanted more than someone to talk to..." Alisha's voice wavered, but she kept going. "I said no. I didn't want it, I didn't want anythin' like that. I mean, I was just happy to know I wasn't the only one alive. When I told him to leave, he refused, beat me down. And when I couldn't fight anymore, he raped me."

The group had fallen into a shocked silence, Lori hugging her son into her. Daryl glowered dangerously at Shane, as though it was all his fault. Alisha went on. "It... it ended up that the only thing I could do was... well, I had to get rid of him, and he wasn't goin' to leave. Not still breathin', anyway." She turned to Shane. "_That's _what happened to the last person I let in here, so you'll excuse me if I don't throw caution to the wind and follow you off a cliff right away."

Without waiting for anyone to speak, Alisha left them all standing there. She went straight to her uncle's old office, where he'd kept all of the family photos. Alisha went there whenever she was upset. She dropped into the chair, tears running down her cheeks. Bile rose in her throat as the memories quickly followed. She tried to shove them out of her mind, but they wouldn't go.

She could feel his rough fingers, touching her skin like a serrated knife tearing at her, his face leering in the darkness as he touched her and beat her. Alisha could almost feel him in her, and she clapped her hand over her mouth as she let out a sob. Curling her knees to her chest, she buried her face with a sigh.

She missed her family, she missed her friends, she even missed that idiot kid who always used to go into the cafe, order a stack of 7 and a half pancakes with extra syrup, and smack them on the windows when no one was watching. There was even the elderly man who'd come in, every Friday at 4, order a small cappuccino, skinny with no sugars, and sat there telling her about all of the flowers he'd grown in his backyard, describing, in detail, how deep to plant them and how often to water them. Alisha would give anything to have that all back.

Footsteps told her someone was coming. Alisha looked up to see Beth watching her with a concerned expression. "Hi."

Alisha watched her for a few seconds. "Hey," she finally said.

"I, um, I'm sorry about what happened," Beth told her.

"Why are you sorry? Y'all didn't do anythin'."

Beth shifted uncomfortably. "I know. It's just, it's a horrible thing to happen, to anyone, and it's not any of our business. Shane shouldn't have pushed you like that. But he's like that. I don't really like him; no one does, except Rick, and I guess he's like our leader, which is okay because I like Rick and-"

Alisha interrupted the girl's rambling. "Beth."

Beth fell silent, dropping her head. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Alisha assured her. She smiled at the girl. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Beth told her. "What about you?"

Alisha shrugged. "Twenty, maybe. Or nineteen. I don't even know what day it is, let alone the date."

"I guess we don't need to keep track anymore, do we? Don't need to worry about waking up early for school." Both girls laughed.

"No, I guess not." Alisha sighed. It had been a long time since she'd seen, or talked to, another girl. It felt nice, to say the least. Alisha doubted it would last, least not with Shane around.


	3. Chapter 3

**You be the House and I'll be the Fire**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Walking Dead. Or any of the characters from the comics or TV show.

**Warnings: **As of yet? Infrequent coarse language. Violence, dark themes that may upset some readers. May be some lovin' for our favourite redneck.

**A/N: **Thank you to all of you who have reviewed my story. I really appreciate you guys, and I apologize for the long hiatus. I hope you all continue to read and enjoy my story! Please forgive me.

* * *

A week passed without incident. After Alisha's outburst, the group mostly steered clear of her. She didn't mind. She preferred it that way. Occasionally Beth or Maggie would attempt conversation, and Alisha would reply in kind, but otherwise she kept to herself, and Rick's group to themselves. They all ate together, with the food gathered by his group. It was running low, though.

So accustomed she was to stumbling into the kitchen and saying good morning to whoever was crazy enough to be out of bed before her, she was surprised to find them all up on the seventh day, haphazardly seated around the kitchen and dining room. Shane looked angry. Rick and Hershel reserved. And then there was Daryl, in the corner, looking as though he didn't really give a shit, because he was used to it.

"You're up early," Alisha said to everyone and no one. She rubbed her forehead and eyes warily, watching Shane. He was set for an argument, and she was in no mood for one. Her head ached something chronic, and her sore throat wouldn't hold its own in a shouting match. Strange, because she hadn't had any wine since Rick's group came.

"The earlier we leave, the more time we have to find somewhere safe for the night," Rick explained.

Alisha nodded. They were smart, she'd give them that much. Survivalists. She briefly wondered if they would have taken her in, if she'd been in the same situation as them.

"Where did y'all come from?" she asked.

Shocked by the question, it took a while for anyone to answer. "Atlanta," Lori finally said.

Alisha racked her mind. She'd heard about Atlanta on the news, the radios before the power went down. It was safe, contained. The military and the CDC were there, keeping the infected in and the people in. "Why did y'all leave?" Alisha asked. "Atlanta's safe."

Rick shook his head. "It was supposed to be," he explained. "But it wasn't. The city was overrun. Walkers got into our camp, killed most of our group, so we had to leave."

"Family?"

"Some of them, to some of us," Rick said.

Lori gave him a look. "They were _all _family. To _all _of us."

"They were people you knew, then. Friends?" Alisha pressed.

"It's none of your business," Shane snapped.

Alisha ignored him, waiting for Rick to speak. "Only since the outbreak," he admitted. "But they were as much our family as my wife and son. After we left Atlanta, we found Hershel and his family. Living on a farm. Figured it would be safe, but after a while a herd ran through. We lost people."

"I'm sorry," Alisha said.

Anything else anyone was about to say was cut short by an explosion in the distance. Alisha was the only one who didn't jump.

"What the hell was that?" Daryl asked. They all looked to Alisha.

Alisha crossed her arms, leaning against the wall as she kicked at the floor. "That was... probably the town group," she said.

"Town group?" Shane echoed. "You mean there's people down there?" Alisha nodded. Shane turned to Rick, shrugging. "We can go down there," he suggested. "After we leave here."

They could all pretend to have not seen the look on Alisha's face, but none of them could ignore the harsh laugh that escaped her lips.

Shane was already on the offence. "What? You want us out, but now we've found another group, you're all of a sudden jealous?"

Alisha just shook her head. "I ain't jealous. Y'all wanna go play house with them, be my guest." She turned to Rick. "But if I were you, I wouldn't take my women within a hundred miles of those people."

If anyone wasn't listening before, they were now rapt with attention.

"Why?" Shane asked, as though they needed any more incentive.

"There's about... twenty of 'em," she said. "_Men. _As much of a family to each other as you and your wife. They'll kill you. And you. You." She turned to each of the men in turn. "They'd probably keep the women until they starved to death. Don't need anymore mouths to feed."

Her words cast an eerie shadow on the group. It didn't take much of an imagination to know what would happen to the women if they were caught. Carl was perhaps the only one with any hint of confusion on his face, as he glanced from his parents to Alisha, but that confusion was fast ebbing away.

"They know I'm around, but they don't know where. Y'all be safe here," Alisha finished.

Rick's head shot up. "You'll let us stay?"

"It's nice to say good morning to someone other than myself," she admitted.

A sigh of relief slipped past Rick's lips as they all thanked her in turn.

Shane was the first to speak after they'd all said their thanks. "What are we gunna do about food, then?" he asked.

"There's a grocery store out of town. It's a small shopping centre. Might be able to find food there. I need go into town, so I'll see what I can find."

"What's in there that you can't find in a shopping centre?" Rick asked.

As if on cue, Alisha burst into a fit of coughing.

"Asthma," Hershel guessed when she stopped.

Alisha nodded. "Our family flaw," she joked. "It's coming up winter, and I need a new inhaler. Can't find one of those in your local grocery store."

"You can't go alone," Maggie protested.

"I know my way around, I'll be fine," Alisha told her. If she was honest with herself, she was surprised by Maggie's sudden concern. She didn't know these people, and up until about five minutes ago, she was set to kick them out. Now they were concerned for _her _safety?

"I'll come with you," Daryl piped up.

"You don't need..." Alisha began, but Lori cut her off.

"After what you just told us about the men down there, can you really blame us?" she asked. She ran a hand over her stomach.

Alisha couldn't argue there. She wasn't much of a shot, either, so he may prove useful. "If you insist."

"Glen, Shane and I will go to the shopping centre, see what we can scavenge," Rick told her.

"I'll come, too." They all turned to Alisha.

"You can't be in two places at once," T-Dog pointed out.

"I won't be going until dark."

Daryl frowned at her. "Why dark?" he asked.

Alisha wondered if maybe they weren't as smart as she'd originally thought. 'Why dark?' Was that a serious question? "Because it's safer," she told them, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"They're more active after dark," Rick pointed out.

"And they can't see you as well," Alisha countered. "The roamers _or _the men. You can usually hear the roamers from a mile away, stumbling over anything like blind elephants. And the group ain't much smarter, flashing torches around like they're tryin' to send messages with the damn things."

They all considered this for a moment, before Daryl finally nodded his head. "Alrigh', then. Let's go get some food."

* * *

The shopping centre was a good half an hour's drive away. In the end, six of them had gone, in three cars, with the intent of getting everything and anything they could get their hands on.

It wasn't much of a shopping centre; there were only about 7 stores, three of them takeaway. Apart from that there was the grocery store, two clothing shops, and a milk-bar. There were no roamers in sight.

"We could all do with some new clothes," Glen said.

Daryl scoffed. "What, you the queen of fashion, now?" He glanced in one of the windows. One of the mannequins was donned in a heavy poncho. He trained his crossbow on it. "I dibs on that."

They all looked at him. Daryl just shrugged.

"Food first, clothes later," Rick told them all. He pushed open the door to the grocery store, walking in. They followed him.

The stench of death and rot and mould reached Alisha's nose, and she coughed, pulling up her scarf to cover her nose. Glen wrinkled his nose in disgust, and Maggie gagged. The only one who didn't seem all to bothered by the smell was Daryl, who strode past them all, crossbow at the ready, as he scanned the aisles. Rick checked the other half of the store as the rest of them waited.

"Nothin'," Daryl confirmed on his way back. Rick came back with the same news. "Alright, let's shop."

Despite having checked the place out, they went in twos. Glen and Maggie, Rick and Shane, and Daryl and Alisha. Alisha grabbed a trolley, and they threw in everything of use. Bottled water, canned food. Anything that was in its use-by, and everything that only had a best before.

Daryl grabbed a can of chickpeas from the shelf, inspecting it. "This place hasn't been touched," he said, tossing it in the trolley. He ran a hand across the shelf, knocking the rest in. "Why?"

"We didn't get the news until it was too late," Alisha told him. He frowned, and she went on. "There was an accident at the power station, before anything solid about this came on the news. Whole place went up in flames. Not many of us in the town have back-up generators." She shrugged. "They never got the power back up. When the infection hit this town, it was too late to worry about food. Everyone just wanted to get out. This place isn't exactly on the way out of town."

Daryl nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess. This might last us at least a year."

Alisha raised an eyebrow. "Might? This should last at least forever."

They filled two trolleys before taking it to bag it all up. Glen and Maggie were already there. "There's so much food," Glen told them. "We're not gunna be able to fit it all in the cars."

"Ain't gunna be able to fit it in the house," Alisha said.

When they'd bagged it all, they took it to the cars, and went back for another round. It took them all morning to do, but they were in high spirits when they were done. Alisha stopped to grab some water and painkillers; her headache wouldn't go away, and then they moved into the clothing stores. Daryl grabbed his poncho, throwing it over his head, as the rest of them tried to find warm clothes for winter.

"Man, we have definitely hit the jackpot," Shane whooped when they got back. T-Dog, who'd come out to help them, cackled at the sight of the food.

"We'll have to go back tomorrow," Rick told them all. "We can't risk anyone else taking that food."

Daryl voiced his agreement.

"We'll go now," Shane suggested.

Rick shook his head. "No; tomorrow. We've got food now, and water."

"All we need now is a brewery, and we'll be set for life," Daryl said.

"Well, I don't have any beer, but there's a lifetimes supply of wine in the cellar," Alisha told them.

T-Dog and Daryl stared. "You've been sitting on the information for over a week?" T-Dog asked.

Alisha shrugged, started to shake her head, then nodded. "Yeah."

"So... the cellar," T-Dog began. 'Where is it?"


	4. Chapter 4

**You be the House and I'll be the Fire**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Walking Dead. Or any of the characters from the comics or TV show.

**Warnings: **As of yet? Infrequent coarse language. Violence, dark themes that may upset some readers. May be some lovin' for our favourite redneck.

**A/N: **Thank you to all of you who have reviewed my story. SilverAdvenger12, FanFicGirl10, Candyluver2121, Emberka-2012 and jalenreedmua. Whether you're newcomers, or you were patient enough to stick around while I to-helled with this story for a few months, I say come one, come all!

* * *

The night was cold and dark. Alisha wrapped herself in layers of clothing; singlet, shirt, cardigan, jumper, overcoat. A scarf and two pairs of socks. She didn't fancy dying on the way to get inhalers. Daryl had given her a funny look, donned in his usual filthy attire, plus one poncho, but he'd said nothing.

Alisha covered her mouth to conceal a cough. Despite everything she was wearing, she still felt a chill. They crept through the streets avoiding the rusty cars and oblivious roamers. There weren't too many of them, which was a surprise; Alisha usually had to stop every five seconds as one passed. She gripped her knife tighter.

Rick had been kind enough to supply her with a handgun and a large hunting knife before they'd left. As long as they were careful, she wouldn't need to use either, and Daryl had a crossbow anyway. He trailed silently behind her, because he didn't know where to go.

They stopped at a corner, and Alisha ducked her head around to assess the situation. She swore.

"What?" Daryl hissed. He inched forward to get a look.

No less than seven men were heading towards them, armed to the teeth. Alisha glanced desperately around. They hadn't been spotted yet, but they were sitting ducks if they stayed here.

Tapping Daryl on the shoulder, Alisha took off, across the street. Daryl was right behind her as she slipped into a store. He flicked a torch on, scanning the room. There was a roamer in the far corner, coagulated blood and saliva dripping from its mouth as it stumbled toward them.

With a whistle, Daryl let an arrow loose, catching the roamer in the head. It collapsed with a thump. They walked over to it, Daryl crouching down to rip the arrow out. Alisha crouched beside it, inspecting its face. Daryl gave her a questioning glance.

"I knew him," Alisha explained.

Daryl nodded. "Good bloke?"

"He was an idiot." She went to say something else, but hushed voices cut her short. "Of all the places they could have gone," she hissed. Daryl reloaded his crossbow.

"There a way out back?"

Alisha scowled. "No. I picked this store specifically so we could get boxed in." She held back another cough as they made their way through the building, finally bursting out into an alley. Daryl checked both directions, but it was empty.

"Let's go."

They ran through the alley, back into the street they'd just been in. Alisha stopped at the mouth of it. "There's the pharmacy," she told Daryl, pointing.

He frowned. "You think we'll make it?" he asked. The pharmacy was halfway down the street, squished in between a cafe and a cigar shop. "If they come out, they'll see us."

"Well I guess we should hope they don't come out," Alisha told him. She sprinted down the street, Daryl at her heels. They made it inside, only for Alisha to be tackled to the ground by a roamer. She yelled, grabbing its neck and thrusting the knife through its ear. It fell limp, and she rolled it off her, leaping to her feet. Daryl had taken down another two.

"If they hadn't noticed us before, they'll know we're here now," he said. They could already hear footsteps coming their way.

As Alisha searched the store, Daryl set about barricading the door. When it was secure, he motioned for Alisha to hand him her backpack. She did, and he went about shoving anything of use in it. Painkillers, antibiotics, bandaids. Anything he could find.

There was a band as someone tried to open the door. "Hey! Is someone in there?" a voice shouted.

Daryl glanced at Alisha who shook her head. She found the inhalers, and grabbed as many as she could. Seizing her backpack, she shoved them in, then struggled to zip it up as Daryl trained his crossbow on the door.

"We just wanna help! We won't hurt you!"

Alisha threw the bag on her back as there was a loud bang on the door. They were trying to kick it down. Daryl swore. "They're gunna bring them walkers this way," he snarled.

"Let's not be here when that happens," Alisha suggested. She headed through the back of the store, trying the back entrance. The door wouldn't budge. "Shit."

Daryl rammed his shoulder against it. "It ain't gunna open. What's up there?" he pointed at a set of stairs.

"No idea. Let's find out." They ran up the stairs just as the front door burst open, and the men poured in.

Upstairs was where the owners had lived. They ran up the hall to the bedroom at the end, the men at their heels.

"Hey!" one of them yelled, whipping out a gun. He let off a shot as Daryl pulled the door shut, and it blew a hole in the wood, missing Alisha's head by inches, smashing through the window next to her.

She gasped, stumbling back. Securing the door with a chair, Daryl inched away from it, crossbow aimed. "Now what?"

Alisha leaned over to glance out the window. "Could be worse." She pulled it open, grabbed the frame and threw her legs out. "See ya down there," she told him, letting go.

She landed with a thump, the impact jarring her ankle. Daryl, a few seconds behind, almost landed on top of her, but she scrambled out of the way. He held a hand out to pull her to her feet. "You alright?"

"Nothin' broken," she wheezed. "I'll live."

* * *

They made it back to Alisha's place with no problems. Her ankle hurt, her legs and back ached, and her head throbbed something chronic, but unless she coughed herself to death, she'd live. The inhalers had done the trick, but she still felt worse for wear, and the lack of sleep was taking its toll.

"Make yourselves at home," she'd told them all before curling up on the couch, basking in the warmth of the fire.

T-Dog wandered in a while later. "Man, you don't look too good," he said.

"Thank you for that one, Sherlock, I hadn't noticed."

"How do you feel?"

He waited as Alisha fought off a coughing fit. "As bad as I look, I'd wager."

T-Dog walked over to her, resting a hand on her forehead. She raised an eyebrow. "You're burning up," he said.

"So?" Alisha asked, genuinely confused. She sat up, groaning. "What's your point? It's a fever."

"You get bit?"

"No."

"Scratched?"

"Nope. What does any of that have to do with my fever?"

T-Dog blinked. Was she serious? No. No, she was just playing dumb. As he watched her, though, he couldn't but notice the look of pure bewilderment on her face. "Have you ever seen someone infected? Before they die, I mean?"

Alisha shook her head. "No; I've been here the whole time."

T-Dog sighed. Figures. He sat himself in the chair. "Fever kills most of 'em," he explained. "If it ain't blood loss, it's that."

Comprehension dawned on Alisha. "Y'all think I'm infected? I ain't bit or scratched. Y'all can check if you want." She stood up, ready to strip, but T-Dog waved her down.

"Hey, hey I believe you. I was just asking. But if it's not that, you should probably rug up or somethin'. Might be the flu. Which'll kill you just as fast as any bite." He stood up and left her there.

Alisha groaned. It'd be just her luck. The undead are roaming the streets, and she was coming down with the _flu_. It made sense. The headache, leg pains. The fever and coughing. The fatigue. It was all she needed.

The last time she'd come down with the flu, she was 9, and nearly didn't make it to 10. It had advanced into pneumonia and, coupled with her asthma, had sent her to hospital. That had been a rough time. Now, they didn't even have hospitals.

Alisha swore.

By the morning, Alisha's fever had broken, and her body didn't ache as much. She wandered into the kitchen, where Lori, Carl and Carol were sitting. "Morning," Carol greeted.

Alisha coughed in response. She grabbed a can of peaches, cut the top off, then leapt onto the counter and picked them out with her fingers. Daryl walked in, glancing around. "Where is everyone?" he asked.

"Outside," Carol told him.

Lori nodded. "Shane wanted to check the fences, make sure they were secure. Maggie and Glenn are still asleep."

Alisha's eyes narrowed at the mention of Shane, but she kept silent. Checking the fences? She let out a frustrated sigh. They were secure. _Obviously _they were, otherwise she would've been eaten months ago.

"I think he wants to check out that group in town," Lori added.

To her credit, Alisha didn't start screaming obscenities. And it was a credit, indeed, because the anger poured into her like water in a cup. "Is. He. Mad?" she hissed. "Or just deaf?"

They all turned to her. Lori shrugged. "He just wants to see how dangerous they are."

"So he's an idiot, then?" Alisha slammed the tinned peaches on the bench, sloshing juice everywhere, as she slid down and stalked out of the room.

"They're doing what they think is best," Lori defended.

Alisha paused at the door. "What's best," she began. "Is that those men in that town never find us. Y'all don't go looking for them. Y'all don't talk to them. Do you have any idea what happens if they find us?"

"You mentioned something about that," Carol muttered.

"Well let me mention it again, because it can't have all gotten through. You can say goodbye to your son. Your husband. And y'all spend the rest of your lives wishing you could join them. _If _y'all manage to escape, it'll be without food, water, vehicles, shelter or weapons. Those men ain't saints, and they sure as hell have nothing to lose."

"We know," Lori assured her. "We know exactly what you're saying, and we know what you mean."

Alisha scowled. "Yeah, but?"

"Shane ain't convinced," Daryl told her. "Wants to talk to them. He... he don't trust you."

Alisha let out a harsh laugh. "Good. Great. I let him into my house, and now he's going to be the death of me."

"He's not going to bring them here," Carol said.

"They're not idiots, they'll _follow _him and then..." Alisha cut herself off. She took a deep breath in, slowly letting it out. _Don't think about that, _she told herself. She put her hands together as if in prayer, resting her nose on them. "I never should have opened those gates," she said, more to herself than the others.

She left them sitting there as she stalked outside. Shane and Rick were standing by one of the cars, deep in conversation. Beth and Hershel were wandering around the yard. "Hey!"

Shane and Rick turned to her as she approached. "What?" Shane asked. She could practically feel hate radiating off him.

"I can't let you go to that group," she told him.

"Is that right? Well, see, that's gunna be a problem for us."

Rick held a hand up to silence Shane. "Look, we're not going to talk to them; we just want to see what it is we're dealing with here," he said.

"I've told you what you're dealing with," Alisha replied.

"They won't even know we're there," Rick assured her. "In and out. We see what they've got, then we get the hell out of there."

Alisha shook her head the whole time Rick spoke. "No," she told him. "I won't let you." The effect of her words were lost due to a coughing fit.

"Yeah, I can see you'll stop us," Shane said.

Hershel was over by now, his hand on Alisha's back as she doubled over coughing. Her breath caught in her throat as the airway constricted, and she gasped for breath. She scrambled around in her pockets for her inhaler, taking two deep puffs from it as she tried to regulate her breathing.

"Breath slowly," Hershel was telling her. "Deep one in, deep one out."

Shane scoffed. "Why don't you go and rest up in bed, let the men do the work?"

Alisha glared at him, but Hershel was already leading her back inside. "You shouldn't e out here in this cold," he said. "Especially not with your condition. Shane's right though; you should get some rest."

Breaking free from Hershel's grasp, she made her way towards the cellar. "I don't need rest; I need wine."


End file.
